Traditions
by fanficxo
Summary: John wasn't sure when it started—but it did. It was like a tradition now; an odd one, yes, but once it happened the first time it just kept happening. (johnlockprompts.tumblr)


DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SHERLOCK

_**KISSING PROMPT**_

* * *

John wasn't sure when it started—but it did. It was like a tradition now; an odd one, yes, but once it happened the first time it just kept happening. They'd come home, exhausted and brain tired from working on a case—and within seconds John found himself pinned to the wall. It managed to blow his mind, every damn time—but after a minute or two of mind-rattling kissing (or sometimes much longer), they'd part and go to bed. And that was it.

Not a word was said about it, either. It was like it hadn't happened though it did— on VARIOUS occasions.

John remembered the first time it happened, it was after a case which had ended in a gun show down in the back of a narrow alley way. John and Sherlock had survived by dumb luck, gun shots missing them by inches. Of course they laughed about it, they were adrenaline junkies, so that's what they did. It wasn't the first time they would have a near death experience, nor would it be the last.

They were in the cab, giggling like children about how Sherlock had fallen face down in a muddy puddle. Not worried about the fact that he'd almost been killed. They didn't do 'what ifs', they did facts.

They got out the cab when it arrived at 221B Baker Street, and Sherlock paid the cabbie whilst John opened the door. John was half way up the stairs when he heard he door close and lock, and footsteps follow him up behind him. It was dark as John hadn't switched the light on yet, they both took off their coats in relative darkness in the living room.

"Tea?" John asked, as he always did after a case.

Sherlock grumbled in reply, but he only got two steps towards the kitchen as Sherlock grabbed John by the arm, spun him around, and shoved him up against the wall. Sherlock held Johns hands next to his head with his own, intertwining their fingers.

John could feel Sherlocks breath on him, and then they were kissing like the other was air. It was the kind of kissing that went straight to Johns groin. Grinding against each other, their hands found different places, on the small of Sherlocks back, and the side of Johns face. The kiss was ended abruptly by Sherlock, who pulled back seemingly unwillingly, and stared at John.

"I'm having a shower" Sherlock said in the most husky of ways.

John was left standing there feeling naked without Sherlock holding his face just right, so he could get a deeper kiss.

John shook his head and reminded himself that he was a straight man and that it was probably some kind of experiment.

He went back to making tea, and went to bed.

The following morning was the same as any morning. You wouldn't have guessed that the two of them had been making out last night. John and Sherlock just ignored what happened, making it less awkward, surprisingly.

And so it began.

The second time it happened, it was three cases after, when Sherlock backed John up against the fridge, and kissed him longingly for the best part of an hour, leaving John stood against the fridge, aroused, his shirt half undone and his belt on the floor.

The third time it happened was two cases after that, but instead of coming straight on to him, pinning him up and kissing him desperately, it started in the cab. John was shivering, so Sherlock had put his arm around him, trying to keep him warm. They were in mid conversation about what takeaway they were getting when Sherlock leaned down slowly and started to kiss his neck, ever so lightly. John was startled for a while, but he couldn't help but melt into the feather light kisses, that Sherlock was scattering up and down his neck.

John made a mental note to try and discuss, this, that they were doing, later.

The cab pulled up and Sherlock pulled away and got out the cab. He paid the driver and snaked his arm around Johns waist walking up to the door, resumed kissing Johns neck, becoming more needing and working up to Johns jaw line. John couldn't stop the moan which escapes his throat.

"Sherlock" John moaned, trying to sound stubborn.

Sherlock hummed and started to work his way along Johns jaw line, using his tongue by lapping against his skin.

John has somehow managed to open the door and then they were on the stairs. It was difficult trying to walk up the stairs with Sherlock trying to nibble on his ear lobe.

They finally got into the main room of 221B Baker Street, Sherlock planted a searing kiss on Johns lips, they gradually deepen the kiss together, angling their heads and finding the perfect rhythm. Sherlock pushed John backwards, keeping the kiss going, until he hit bookcase. Some books fell onto the floor but they ignored them, both preoccupied.

John could feel Sherlocks hands wander down his chest towards his belt buckle. They were grinding heavily against each other, breathing deeply, when Sherlock pulled away slowly, leaving him with pecks on his jaw. He looked him in the eye, then walked away.

John was a bit dazed, he knew the eventual end would come suddenly. John was breathless, and it took a few minutes to catch his breath. John made himself a tea and went to bed.

Waking up he was determined to figure out why Sherlock was doing this, but alas, Sherlock was burdened with a new and complicated case, and John just started to not think about it.

So it became normal, for after any case, for Sherlock to kiss him till he can barely breathe, then leave him on the edge of arousal. John could feel a hardness in Sherlocks trousers every time, but he left when it got going, scared of what would happen, he doesn't like to think of himself as human.

This went on for months, not even mentioned, but then Sherlock kissed him. Not after a case. Not in between cases. In the middle of a case. This changed things. It had broken a unspoken rule.

They were walking back from dinner at Angelo's (John was trying to stop him from dying of hunger), when Sherlock put his arm across Johns shoulder, squeezed his arm, and brushed lips against his neck.

"Sher-Sherlock, wha-?"

John was cut off, as Sherlock sucked on his earlobe, shooting a spark of pleasure down his spine.

"Sherlock we need to tal-"

Sherlock shoved him up against a wall in the middle of the street, and Sherlock kissed him hesitantly. It wasn't as deep as the others, it was incredibly slow, and steady. Their tongues slid over each others, emitting a moan from each of their throats.

"Sher-" John tried to get out.

"Ssshhhh, just-" Sherlock mumbled under his breath, not bothering to finish his sentence.

He didn't want to get caught, it was entirely different kissing in the street. John searched his mind for an excuse to make him stop until they got back to Baker Street.

"Mycroft" John got out. "Cameras"

Sherlock stopped mid kiss and froze.

"Shit, come on" Sherlock hissed and grabbed John by the cuff of his shirt, and ran towards Baker Street. He pulled him inside and started kissing him again; working on his bottom lip, dipping his tongue in and out of his mouth, and as always, making John a horny mess.

They somehow got into Sherlocks bedroom, John has no idea how that happened, he honestly can't remember anything until Sherlocks straddling him on the edge of his bed.

"John" A chorus of his name fell out of Sherlocks mouth.

"Sherlock, I want-" John stopped and began tugging at Sherlocks shirt.

John had his belt unbuckled and trousers off by the time Sherlock had finished with that and Sherlock was down to his boxers. Sherlock kissed him as he slowly and teasingly undid his shirt and slid it off his shoulders. Then they were pulling each others boxers down and they were bare, rutting against each other. Sherlock pulled away just drinking in the view of John naked and wanting.

Then it happened. They crossed the line for good. Sherlock took John to the best orgasm of his life. There, John left scratch marks on Sherlocks back as proof it happened. He worked his fingers leisurely in and out of Johns hole, then eventually replacing it with his length.

From then on, the kisses also included some sexual act, and more often than not, left John well and truly shagged. John couldn't think of a place they hadn't shagged yet. The table, the kitchen floor, the sofa, even the wall in the hallway. Sometimes it left Sherlock with scratch marks up and down his back. John couldn't help but smile smugly at this, nor could Sherlock at the love bites John had to cover by wearing Sherlocks scarves. People raised their eyebrows at Johns new choice of fashion, but they thankfully didn't comment. John couldn't think of a valid excuse for it.

...

Then there was Mycroft. Kidnapping him in the usual fashion, from outside a supermarket this time, he took him to an empty warehouse and sat him down.

"Now, I think you know what this is about, and I think it's obvious you're in love with him. You need to ask him if he returns your feelings as even I cannot deduce my brother. It is up to you where you go from here, but I suggest staying away from that particular area of his brain, as that is the part that even he doesn't know his way around. I deduce that these... Sexual encounters... Have not been happening for over a year, but for a few months, so he is extremely new to this so treat him nicely or we could all be in for a treat. Do you understand?"

John nodded and left the place not uttering a single word but feeling more and more determined to face the problem.

...

"Sherlock, what are we doing?" John asked the next time Sherlock started to show interest in his lips.

"Experimenting at Bart's" Sherlock answered dismissively, a smug smile rapidly growing.

He was right. John was helping him finish a chemistry experiment before they head back for the night.

"You know what I mean" John was determined.

Sherlock dropped everything he was doing and invaded Johns personal space.

"I'm not sure, I guess" Sherlock brushed his fingertips along Johns cheekbone. "I guess, I wanted to try something"

"So this is just an experiment of yours" John tried to cover his obvious disappointment. It hurt.

"Yes. It was a one off to start with but then. Well. I just couldn't stop. And. And then I seemed to acquired some... Emotions, for you" Sherlock stuttered.

"For me?" Not quite convinced.

"John, you know I am terrible at these type of things, so I'll just say it. I think I may be in love with you" Sherlock said straight out.

"Really?"

"Don't ask stupid questions John"

Sherlock then kissed him, deep and slow, teasing him with his tongue. He pulled back just enough so he could speak.

"I've come to the conclusion that you're in love with me too"

"God yes, I am"

John then kissed Sherlock.

"Come on, we can finish this later, I've now got better things to distract my mind with" Sherlock smirked.

And with that, they were out of there.


End file.
